


Wait For It (remake)

by MayonakaNoAme



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Genre: Drama & Romance, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:53:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27209929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayonakaNoAme/pseuds/MayonakaNoAme
Summary: It wasn't exactly a scene from a fairy tale. It wasn't original or clever or even remotely romantic. Regardless, as Cloud dropped the ring into her hand, his eyes asking the question she had frequently fantasized, Tifa knew there was only one possible answer: "...No."
Relationships: Tifa Lockhart & Cloud Strife, Tifa Lockhart/Cloud Strife
Comments: 11
Kudos: 30





	Wait For It (remake)

_Disclaimer:_ All characters and titles belong to Square Enix's "Final Fantasy VII". I own nothing.

 _Setting & Pairing: _ Post ACC, Pre-DOC. CloTi.

" _Blessed is the man who expects nothing, for he shall never be disappointed"_

\- Alexander Pope

. **Wait For It .**

[remake]

Chapter 1 | _What to Expect_

There was no candlelight, flowers nor music.

Her father, long departed, could not place her hand in his and bestow a blessing.

The setup wasn't original or clever or even remotely romantic.

Regardless, despite the mortifying number of times she had fantasized about this moment, she hadn't anticipated or desired anything more. Truly. 

For he was a man of simple, quiet tastes. Simple, non-mechanized tastes at least. Therefore the method he chose, the lack of words, the determined stance, was in no way surprising.

Disappointment with his approach wasn't an issue.

It was exactly as she had always envisioned, always hopefully expected.

The hand that held her wrist was uncharacteristically quivering as the other spread out her fingers and deposited the object, the _symbol_ , into her waiting palm.

Direct. Sweetly nervous. Heart-breakingly sincere.

 _Cloud_...

Upon closer inspection, she noted that the ring too had been extracted from her childhood fantasy of this moment; a fragile gold band with an impractically large, heart-shaped diamond. Deliciously sparkly.

A little girl's dream.

A fantasy made real.

From behind thick lashes, crimson eyes rose to meet his azure ones, their omnipresent glow especially intense in this dim lighting. Still, her expression remained a unique amalgamation of confused and awe-struck.

He almost sighed at the reaction but wisely bit it back so as not to taint this memory.

Words were unnecessary. She had taught him that. 

A diamond ring. 

A pleading countenance. 

Surely she could figure it out? Surely it was obvious enough?

His unspoken question lingered in the air for tense seconds, like the smoke after a lit match, until her stabbing stare, gradually narrowing, forced him to at the very least nod. As extra confirmation, he re-folded her fingers around the object and pushed the closed fist, covered by his own gloved hands, toward her chest. In case there was any doubt that it was hers to keep. Forever.

Only then did her chest expand with a sharp intake of air, eyes misting over with telltale shine. He watched, breath held, as her lips molded into one of those effortless, comforting smiles; one which never failed to put him at ease and lift his heart with the assertion that, for once, he had done something right.

That was the proper reaction. He had been waiting. It had been expected. For Tifa had been wanting this, coaxing this, for as long as he could remember.

Finally.

Just like that, it was complete. His hands released hers and fell to his sides, a grin of quiet contentment playing on his lips. It had been, surprisingly, as easy as Barret said it would be.

The patrons of the crowded bar abruptly exploded into applause, causing both to jump in surprise. In his panic, he had almost forgotten they were there. Friends, family and what seemed like the entire city of Edge, already celebrating the coupling they had been waiting for, for years. Glasses were clinked, congratulations were yelled, shrieks of elation erupted from one specific ninja, shattering ear drums, and two pairs of tiny hands high fived from where they sat at the bar; the front row seats that had been reserved especially for them, his soon-to-be-official children.

They were proof that he and Tifa belonged together. He saw it now more clearly than ever, reflected in their bright, innocent eyes, bouncing on their stools with untapered excitement.

Later tonight, as they counted the bar cash and planned his delivery route as always, he would discuss with Tifa the details he had already been pondering for weeks. About moving to a larger, cleaner building where the kids could have separate rooms and maybe a play area. About the re-submission of the adoption papers, as joint custodians this time. About having Marlene as maid of honor and Denzel as best man, thinking they'd appreciated the prestige of the roles. About-

"No."

That one word, the first thing she had actually verbalized since deciphering his proposal, was a mere whisper. Yet his enhanced hearing and fragile heart picked it up as though it had been screamed through a megaphone.

As his eyes returned to her face from surveying the crowd on the other side of the bar, the first thing he noticed was her extreme change of expression. Gone was the soft, content smile. Lips were now parted and straight-lined, brows knitted together. Not confused and awe-struck but, almost…angry.

Impossible.

…Right?

Tifa wanted this. She wanted this more than anything. They had all told him. She had frequently implied it. He wasn't _that_ emotionally half-witted after all. Every night, every waking moment spent in his presence since the defeat of the remnants, she had been silently begging for him to make it official.

To make them a real family.

…Hadn't she?

The second thing he noticed was her hand. No longer clasped to her chest, it was now hovering above the knife she had been using to chop mint leaves prior to his interruption. The ring, the object he had spent many frustrating hours accepting his comrades' suggestions for, was now discarded, half buried in a pile of herb stems; the glimmer of the diamond struggling to shine through the thicket.

Her fingers flexed from above it, debating snatching it back up from the chopping block, saving his pride and her fantasy from a gruesome, awkward death.

But no. It was a mistake.

"No! I-I can't!" she repeated more loudly and resolutely this time. Her eyes were firm and dry, mouth set in a thin line, as wholly determined as she had been when facing any other monstrous threat to the family.

Cloud didn't understand.

Bar patrons started to notice, especially those close enough to hear her blunt exclamation. Voices, one by one, grew silent as they decoded the supposed “happy couple-to-be”’s anxious face-off.

All too soon, there was silence. Silence so thick it was suffocating.

Cloud stood there, motionless except for those glowing, teal eyes that spun back and forth from the abandoned jewelry, to the children, to their friends, to her face. Silently begging her, begging anyone, to explain what was happening.

With shaking hands, Tifa pushed her long dark hair behind her ears, feigning a grin for the benefit of the concerned-looking children sitting at the bar. "We'll talk about this later, kay?" she muttered in their general direction before removing a drawer of dirty dishes with much more vehemence than would be considered sane.

That specific bin was usually left to the end of the night or after the dinner rush if it slowed down enough. Both Cloud and the children knew that very well. However, it was the only excuse she could presently fathom for getting out of that room as quickly as possible. For getting away from _him._

The uncomfortable murmurs of surprise and bewilderment began their assault when she was not two steps from the kitchen door. In another, quickened leap, she could still not dodge the fragments of hushed conversation that reached her ears.

Something about _insane._

Something about _wasting chances._

And something about _poor bastard_ and _broken._

There was no need to point it out. She knew. Gods…did she know what she had just done to him.

Even in the solace of her kitchen, the voices drowned by a faucet turned to full pressure, Tifa could feel the weight of her verdict pressing upon her shoulders like an anvil, threatening to bury her alive under broken promises and great expectations. While washing her hands of the remnants of mint and his touch, she watched helplessly as the water swirled the basin, lingering in the light as long as possible.

All could only flow freely, avoiding the abyss, until everything, inevitably, slithered down the drain.

They had been doing so well.

Why did he have to ruin it?

* * *

****Author's Note**:**

Remember the good ol’ days when I used to write chapters fewer than 4 pages long?

:D

Hi everyone and welcome to “Wait For It [remake]”. For those never frequented fanfiction.net, this was a story I started back in 2009 (over ten years ago, whoa!) that has always been dear to me. I re-read it once in a while and, of course, over the years a bunch of grammatical errors, excessive wordiness, jumping between character heads and awkward italicized thoughts started to irk me. I always intended to go back and do a thorough edit but was too distracted by other projects and other fandoms as FFVII became more and more obscure. 

Props to SE and their glorious FF7: Remake for renewing these beloved characters and inspiring a brand new community to celebrate Cloti along with us oldies. I figured now was as good a time as any to revisit this work and clean it up a bit before transferring it to AO3, where I am much more active nowadays. 

As always, I love to hear you thoughts, concerns and even wild ideas via comments. I don’t expect to change much, if anything, storyline wise but I am happy to cut anything deemed redundant or dated. Thank you all. And i did succumb and create a Twitter account should you wanna poke me “IRL” :). 

Twitter @AmeMayonaka

Cheers, 

Mayonaka 


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